Saturday, January 31


Alternate Perception is a two year old baby now. In the comfort of his crawl, he's yearning to walk. Learning with every half step, stumbling as he fights the gravity of reason while succumbing to instinct. He has made a lot friends growing up here. Some as old, some older and some timelessly captured in words. He has lamented lost love but he has also fallen in love here. With wonderful people. And the woman of his dreams. It's here that he learned to share his dreams and his fears. Sometimes, true to his age he littered and whined. Sometimes, truer to his age, he stained the walls with half broken crayons. With patterns and shapes that meant something to him. It was his way of capturing the world. It's here he vented his fascination with this world. It's also here that he let out his frustrations. It has been his closet, his fireplace. It has also been his playground. The canvas of his dreams. Alternate Perception is now two.

With his toothy grin and dimpled face, he's heard echoes and caught dreams. He's cut clouds of the shapes he wanted, to a perfect t. He's read things easier said and he's lost his heart saying.. Maybe. He's learnt subtext before words, but he's still learning to speak. He's still in need of diapers, he doesn't know when not to pee. He spills his food but mumbles a promise, he'll stop when he's three. He's held on to his name, his colour and his games. He's much the same, just a little lazy and lame. When the crawling comes to a halt, he'll take his first steps here. Learn and perfect his walk. There's much to probe, and he's only just begun.

Tonight he's happy, clapping flat with his little palms. He'll manage to blow one of the two candles and quickly phoo at the second one. He's waiting for the cake. The cherry piece. But so are we all aren't we?

Thursday, January 29

Motion is the greatest illusion of time.

Thursday, January 22


It's not because it's 3 am and i just dropped my most special one back home. It's not because i'm dealing with more ethanol in my blood than permissible by the celebrated standard called sanity.
It's the greatest truth, more honest than any film-maker has ever told you. The greatest thing you'll ever experience in life is loving and being loved in return. And in the humble theatre of my life - a mile for every inch, a gallon for every drop, a quintal for every ounce and a million for every cent. I love as a way of life and i simply love too much. But i have far more in return. So i'm dealing with surplus. Remember me in your darkest hours, in the loveless grey sunday evenings of your lives (earnestly wish there aren't too many). For i have a heart full of love and more than a hug to spare and your merit is this space at which you stare.

Wednesday, January 14


I need a buzz. I need a trip. I need to be incredibly high on something. Substance or idea. That's the kind of indulgent writing that this blog endorses even as it miserably fails to sustain a readership. Sometimes it's just lack of solitude. Space and silence. An alliterative combination that crystallizes the amorphous contours of thought into more definitive forms of expression. It allows me to hear myself with a clarity that wanders lost in this worldly cacophony. That was probably how this blog started. Out of a need to hear. Myself. But when space and silence fail to translate into words, i wonder if i've lost the need to hear myself or if i have run out of things to say. It's tragic that the existence of this blog has been reduced to the tightrope between these two horrific ends.
The truth is i have become lazy, lost discipline, been too indulgent to inertia. So, to breathe life into this blog and punch it with posts till it wakes up with a shudder i'm working out a stimulus package in keeping with current trends.

The first fortnight of the new year has zipped past rapidly in what has been a very adventurous start to the long list of months to follow. From writing b-school entrances to boarding running trains on the way back from a clandestine trip to Delhi with the most special one. This year should necessarily be one of change. It'll start with the blog. It has to change the way it speaks to you. Or to me. The posts on new year resolutions, on delhi and on the most special one are simmering to a boil. There are request posts and pending tags. There's stuff to do with tone and identity. So well, yeah that's more or less where Alternate Perception is headed.

Altough i'm late as usual, it's not too late to wish you guys all the very best for the forthcoming year. I mean happiness, success, love, good place to sleep, good sleep, good people to sleep with, fewer hangovers, more parties and other such fun things. I wish all of that. Hope the recession ends, we dont fall prey to bullets and bombs and have a lot more to write about.

I'm using madness as a protocol this year, so i'll be a little mean. If you dont post with a week of reading this, i hope you land up with tapeworm from the next pork chop you eat. Vegetarians don't smirk. Post instead.

(Look who's talking)